Russian Repartee
by protejerinnocencia
Summary: Hermione and her parents go to Russia for her graduation, to a Russian ballet performance. No one expects to see who they do


**Russian Repartee**

"Hermione dear come on," Mrs. Granger called to her daughter.

"Mum, wait a minute," Hermione yelled back as she was tackled by Harry and Ron.

"Leaving so soon?" Ron asked.

"I thought we were going out partying," Harry added.

"Hermione come on! We're going to be late for our flight," her mother shot back.

"I can't. My parents are dragging me somewhere but they wont' say where. Graduation gift they claim," Hermione muttered. She hugged and kissed both of her friends once more before walking over to her parents.

Hermione waved to he friends as her mother dragged her from the castle. They took the designated port key to a parking lot where the Grangers had left their car. Climbing into the back, Hermione buckled her seatbelt and stared out her window.

"Would you please tell me where we're going?" she asked as they neared Heathrow Airport.

"You'll find out soon enough sweetheart," her father replied as he pulled into a spot in the car park.

The three Grangers grabbed their luggage and trekked into the airport terminal. Mr. Granger stood in the queue to get their tickets. Finally, after checking their bags and going through security, they found seats in their departure gate. Hermione snatched her ticket from her father's hand and looked at it.

"Russia! We're going to Russia!" she exclaimed.

"Happy Graduation dear," her mother said, giving her daughter a firm squeeze.

Hermione squirmed in her seat for the next half hour, anxious to get on the plane. She had always dreamed of going to Russia to see the St. Petersburg Ballet Company. She had just figured she and her parents would celebrate her graduation from Hogwarts at home with some close family friends; Harry and Ron. This, she decided, was far better.

"Ladies and gentlemen, at this time we will begin boarding rows 50 and lower," the receptionist called.

Hermione glanced at her ticket and saw their row number was 37. She jumped from her seat and nearly ran into an elderly gentleman.

"I'm sorry," she said, helping to steady the man.

"It's quite alright young lady," he said in a heavy Welsh accent.

Once all the passengers were situated on the plane and the safety instructions had been given by the stewardess, the flight began. Hermione gazed out the small rectangular window as they began to ascend into the cloudless sky. Her hands fidgeted excitedly as they climbed higher and higher. Deciding she needed something to occupy her hands, she reached into her bag and pulled out a book, a present from Harry. She turned to the bookmarked page and began to get caught up in the story. Time seemed to fly by fore before she knew it, Hermione's mother's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Hermione…look," her mother pointed out the window.

Hermione turned her head and the breath caught in her throat. They were beginning to descend into St. Petersburg. She stowed her book back in her bag and put her tray table back up. Within a half hour they were walking into the airport, pulling on light jackets.

"Come on, this way," Mr. Granger instructed his wife and daughter.

The family of three made their way to baggage claim, Hermione gazing at the Russian signs everywhere. She wished she knew what they said. Once picking up their luggage and finding the taxi depot, the trio waited for a cab.

"How long are we here for?" Hermione asked, pacing back and forth.

"A week. We're going to the ballet tomorrow night," her mother answered.

Hermione did not have a chance to respond as a taxi pulled up and they climbed in. The car ride was uneventful. Hermione stared in awe at the many buildings they passed, impressed by their architecture.

"Here you are," the taxi driver announced in accented English.

"Thank you," Mr. Granger said, handing the man money.

The Grangers spent the rest of the evening unpacking and exploring the hotel. The following day included a tour of Old St. Petersburg and shopping. Presently, Hermione was applying lipstick in the hotel mirror. They were about to head out to the ballet. She was doing everything she could to calm her nerves. Ever since she was a small child she'd dreamed of this day.

"'Mione dear, hurry up," called her father.

"Coming," she replied, pulling open the door to the bathroom.

The trio exited the room and took the elevator down to the lobby. A car had been arranged to pick them up and take them to the performance. When they arrived, there was a large throng of people outside the theater, all heading inside. The Grangers joined the masses and within twenty-five minutes had found their seats; fourth row center.

"Dad how'd you get such good seats?" Hermione asked, seated between her parents.

"We just got lucky my dear," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

Hermione contented herself with flipping through the program, all in Russian. Her face fell slightly when she couldn't read any of the synopsis or anything about the dancers. She'd expected them to all have pictures but they didn't. The one that shocked her the most was the male lead.

"You'd think they'd have this in English " she muttered, her hand itching to pull out her wand and translate it.

Just then the lights began to dim and the large red curtains were pulled open, revealing a sparkling backdrop. A group of ballerinas pranced on stage and the performance started. Hermione lost herself in the swaying music and grace of the dancers. The male dancers hadn't been onstage much when the first act ended. Hermione got up to stretch her legs and use the bathroom. The second act opened much like the second but with one large change, the dancers were in partners. The recent Hogwarts graduate sat back and watched, her eyes locking onto the lead male dancer. He seemed strangely familiar to her. He had striking dark eyes and his skin was eerily pale in contrast to white costume. His hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. She thought he was sort of attractive. Throughout the rest of act the she focused on this man, every moment he made was precise and perfect. The one thing that bothered her is that he never smiled. It was not until the end when the dancers came back out to do their bows did Hermione realize who indeed it was. She had to control herself from bursting out laughing. She got shushed by both of her parents and a stern look from her mother.

"Hermione Jane Granger, what on earth was so amusing that you were going to interrupt a performance?" her mother chided as they left the theater.

They came upon a table where several of the dancers were signing autographs. The stoic lead was seated next to a pretty brunette. They were conversing in rapid Russian. The voice was unmistakable.

"Him," Hermione gasped, nudging her head in the man's direction.

The man must have heard her and looked up. His pale skin paled even more and he looked as if he were about to faint. Hermione walked over to him.

"Very nice performance…Professor Snape," Hermione said, doing her best to not giggle like an idiot.

Severus glared at her for a moment, clearing his throat.

"Do you know this girl?" the woman to his right asked in flawless English.

"A former student of mine," he muttered.

"What are you doing here Miss Granger?" he hissed.

"Well to see the ballet of course. I didn't certainly expect to see you," she quipped back, her tone ruined by a chuckle.

"You really are very good. But for God's sake, white is just not your color," Hermione burst into laughter.

"I could not agree with you more," he answered.

"Well I suppose I should stop looking like a stalker and just get your signature then…not that I haven't seen it over the last seven eyras mind you," Hermione remarked, handing him her program.

Severus took the program and signed it. Upon handing it back, their eyes met his seemed to be saying, 'tell no one of this."

Hermione nodded and walked back to join her parents. She stared down at her Professor's autograph and smiled. Perhaps she should come to Russia more often. Or perhaps she would just share it with Ron and Harry for a good laugh. Either way she'd just learned something new about her Potions Professor. And that would make this trip even better.


End file.
